100 Theme Challenge
by Wolfie338
Summary: A one hundred theme challenge, featuring mostly USUK, but there may be other pairings.
1. 001: Introduction

**Oh look, a one hundred theme challenge!**

**This is just something I'm gonna write if I get writer's block with FFASF, or with anything else I'm going to be writing. Pairings and characters will differ every now and again, but most of it'll probably be USUK. Because OTP and FEELS! And seeing as I cannot write anything that's less than five hundred words, each challenge will have its own chapter.**

**For now, we'll start with a bit of Cardsverse, shall we?**

**Warnings: Fluffy~ and Alfred acting all romantic and chivalrous and *Dies***

**Disclaimer: I no own.**

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001: Introduction

The sun had just dipped down below the horizon as the old King of Spades placed his quill back into the ink pot and waited for his letter to dry. Squinting his old eyes in the dim light, he gazed out over the view of his kingdom from the wide windows. Standing from his seat, he slowly went over to open one of the windows. In the distance, he could hear the low dongs from the church bell as the last service of the day was finishing, and the high, happy chirps of the red beaked sparrows as they playfully darted around the towers of the castle.

He loved his Kingdom, and he loved the citizens, but, alas, he was getting old. His hair, once a fresh chestnut colour, had withered away to a white as bright as freshly fallen snow, and his face was wrinkled with age. Soon enough, his son and heir, the young Prince Alfred, was to take the throne.

There was a sharp knock on the door, and the King turned to the source of the noise.

"Enter!" He called and the wooden door creaked open to reveal the Jack of Spades, Yao Wang. With a low bow, Yao stepped forward.

"Sire, I'm sorry to disturb you, but the Queen has been found, aru." Yao stated. The King's eyes widened and he then grinned.

"Where was she found?" He asked as they both exited the room. Yao brushed some dust from his jacket.

"On the border between our Kingdom and the Diamonds, in the village of Little Treeland, aru." Yao replied, as they started down a set of spiral staircases. "However, they were found in one of the… ahem, pleasure houses…" The King gave his Jack a startled look of surprise. He took a deep breath in through his nose, glaring at the Jack disapprovingly.

"Just as long as she can kick the habit out of her…" The King muttered, before Yao cleared his throat.

"The future Queen is male, Sire."

{~oOo~}

Arthur Kirkland was stripped down to nothing and washed vigorously with rough sponges and frigid water until his skin was raw and red. The strange blue mark on his left shoulder wouldn't fade, proving to the guarding officer that Arthur was the next Queen of Spades. He was then shoved into a thick woollen bathrobe that was far too long on the arms and a fresh pair of underwear and dragged to the throne room.

Multiple blue and purple flags fluttered around the fresh air that drifted in through the open windows of the great hall. At the end of the room were three wooden thrones, engraved with roses and spades and in two of the thrones, sat the King and Jack of Spades, staring down at Arthur with an air of disgust. The guards bowed low to the two thirds of their royalty, and forced Arthur to do the same. The King stood, his back rigid as he took a step towards the future Queen. Everyone in the room straightened up as well.

"Show me." He commanded, and one guard spun Arthur around to tug down the robe and reveal the spades mark. The King scanned the mark over and then glanced towards one of the guards. "Are you sure it's real?"

"We scrubbed it multiple times, your highness." The guard replied as Arthur pulled his robe back up over his shoulders and turned back to the King.

"Is it a fake?" The King demanded and Arthur shook his head. "Speak up, boy!"

"No, Sire." Arthur muttered. The King glared at Arthur, who kept his head down.

"It must be a fake." The King cried. "No prostitute has even become a member of royalty!" Arthur's emerald eyes snapped up to glare at his king.

"You really think I went into prostitution for my own benefit?" Arthur spat. "I could have died in that hell hole!" His head was shoved down by a guard.

"Do not speak to your king like that!" The guard ordered, but Arthur didn't listen. He shouted as the officers leapt forward, trying to control their future queen from lashing out at their current king. Yao stood up from his chair, taking a few cautious steps towards the King. The King then held up a bejewelled hand and everyone froze. Arthur stared up at the King, as the older man brought his hand to strike Arthur across the cheek.

"You will never speak to me like that again, do you understand?!" He barked and Arthur seemed to feel himself shrinking. Any boldness had fled in that one hit. He pulled his hand up to massage his burning face and lowered his head.

"Father?" The King spun around to be greeted with the sight of his son, Prince Alfred, standing by the thrones. "Is everything okay? I heard shouting." The King smiled at his son.

"Everything is fine, Alfred. Go back to your studies." He reassured. Alfred walked past the thrones and came level to Yao.

"I've finished." Alfred raised an eyebrow as he looked towards Arthur and his eyes widened at the hand print on his cheek. "What happened?" Alfred grabbed Arthur's chin between his fingers and inspected the wound. Arthur's eyes met Alfred's and they stared at each other for a moment longer than they should have. The King sighed.

"This prostitute has tried to fake his way into becoming royalty." The King admitted. "Nothing for you to worry about." Alfred let go of Arthur's chin and turned to his father.

"Show me." He requested and the King glanced towards the guard, nodding to him and, for the second time since Arthur was dragged into throne room, he was turned around and the robe slipped down his pale shoulders to display the navy spade that was now permanently tattooed to his skin. Alfred raised a hand a press his finger to the mark, rubbing it slightly before pulling away. "It's him."

Arthur let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding, as Alfred stepped back. The King looked between Yao, his son and Arthur, who was, yet again, pulling the robe up, and then back to Alfred.

"Are you sure?" The King asked, and Alfred nodded.

"Positive. You know that the connection between the three royals is stronger than anything this world has ever known." Alfred explained. "As soon as I walked in, I could tell that this is my Queen." Alfred lowered himself down to kneel and grasped Arthur's hand, pressing his lips to the back of it. He then stood up, grinning at Arthur, whose face flushed in response. "Let's get you some clothes." He took Arthur by the hand and pulled his past the thrones. "What's your name, by the way?"

"Arthur Kirkland."

"I'm Prince Alfred."

"Yes, I know."

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**ASDFGHJKL PRINCE ALFRED~~~~~~ *Swoons***


	2. 058: Heartfelt Apology

**Did the "Storage Room Cleaning" episodes make anyone else cry?**

**Disclaimer: Me no own.**

**Warning: Slightly depressing, but other than that, it's clean.**

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058: Heartfelt Apology

The fourth of July was England's most hated day. Whenever July rolled around, he confined himself to his bedroom, with enough food to last him until the seventh. As he rolled himself up under his duvet and flicked through the pages of his book, he sighed heavily.

Whenever he closed his eyes, he could still see the bloodied field of the battle ground before him and the smell of the fresh rain still tickled his nose. His ears rang with the sound of gunshot and he covered them up to try and dull the noise, but with little success. He lightly bit his tongue to shot from screaming out as the younger form of America stepped forward, musket rested in the crook of his arm and the most serious look on his face that England had ever seen. His blue uniform was soaked through, and splattered with mud. His hair clung to his face as he frowned at his former brother.

"I'm no longer a child." America cried, "Nor your little brother!" England's grip on his musket tightened as America putted his gun at him. "Consider me independent!"

England snapped back to reality as the tears started to overflow. He scrubbed at his cheeks, trying to stop himself.

"Damn it…" He muttered. Even after all these years, he never got an apology. If America apologised, maybe he would go to those damn, stupid birthday parties he held every year without fail.

That's all he wanted.

{~oOo~}

"Happy birthday America!"

"Happy birthday!"

"Thanks for inviting me, America!"

America grinned brightly as many nations and political figures patted him on the back, passed him presents and then rushed towards the large table, piled high with food and alcohol. He grabbed his bottle of beer and scanned the room, looking out for a mass of scruffy blond hair and bright green eyes. After failing to find these features, his smile fell slightly.

England hadn't bothered to turn up this year either…

He'd sent an invitation, like he did every year, but England obviously hadn't bothered to come to the party.

The crowd started to migrate out onto America's back garden as fireworks started shooting up into the dark night's sky. America, bringing up the rear, stepped out onto the grass, glanced up at the sparkling bursts of red, blue and white and wished that England was here.

America knew that he'd hurt England. He knew that England resented this time of the year, with France often telling him how the small island nation retreated to his bed to sleep the week away.

"I haven't heard about _Angleterre_ retreating anything since the Battle of Singapore in 1942!" Francis had cried over a glass of red wine a few years ago. "And yet you, America, have him running at any mention of your independence!"

America closed his eyes, listening to the approval of the crowd and the crackle of the fireworks.

_I'm sorry, England… _he thought as a loud boom echoed across the garden.

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**Would you believe me if I said that this is my first time writing the Hetalia characters as countries? True story.**


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